Death Game
by lesbianneptune
Summary: Haruka and Michiru wake up alone, afraid and without their memories. As they embark on a search to find out what exactly has happened to them, they must face a challenge that will truly put their relationship to the test.


Michiru jolts awake. She waits for the morning light to reach her eyes and for her vision to return to her, but as her body revives, stretching, the light never comes. The ground beneath her is cold on her bare legs and she frowns. How long had she been asleep? She scrabbles through her memory, but everything she thought she knew is blurred; faces, names, places. Reflexively, she reaches for the pocket where her transformation wand would usually lie, but, to her dread, finds nothing. The darkness is all-encompassing, enveloping her in the unknown and for a moment she considers returning to whatever slumber she had been caught within, before a name hits her memory out of nowhere and startles her into action.

 _Haruka._

She calls out, her voice hoarse from seeming inactivity (just how long had she been sleeping?) and waits.

Nothing.

Panic rises in her chest as recollections of her wife return to her like the pieces of a puzzle she's formed many times before, and she fumbles aimlessly, moving around in the hope of finding something, anything, that will clear the fog in her head.

She needs to find her. Michiru reaches, wraps her hands around the memories of where she had last been, but they dissipate between her fingers. She sighs in frustration. If Haruka is here – and Michiru does not know whether she wants her to be, truly – she will be terrified and the prospect of Haruka's fear is, as usual, a far bigger motivator for Michiru than her own. She stares at the invisible outlines of her outstretched hands in the darkness and wonders just how far the seemingly endless black goes on for. Momentarily, she has flashbacks of a short-lived blackout as a child, and considers trying to find a match or flint of some kind, but as she moves tentatively, she realises that wherever she may be, there is no cupboard to blindly root through, and no furniture to cling onto and steady her feet.

Wherever she is, her surroundings are, thus far, empty. She stumbles as she attempts to stand, the movement from her place of rest causing a sudden chill to sink into her bones. The goosebumps rise on her forearms as she attempts to collect herself, her breathing harsh in the cold, dead air. She begins to shout again, her voice sharpening into a desperate, uncharacteristic scream. If she's in this place, Haruka will be freezing. For a senshi of the wind, Haruka's never liked the cold. Haruka will be suffering. Haruka, Haruka, Haruka.

Suddenly, somewhere in the invisible distance, there's a shout. Michiru is on her feet in an instant, stumbling towards the sound, grabbing for assistance that isn't there to be grabbed. There is a ground beneath her but nothing else, she realises, as she falls to her knees, the effort of movement too great for a body wracked with fatigue.

"Ruka? Are you there?" She crawls forward, shouting as loudly as she is able, straining her depleted capabilities. The strain of it all almost makes her pass out. She stops briefly, wondering as to her own condition and what on earth or in the solar system could have caused it, before realising that now is certainly not the time to be considering her own state of being. Thought is a luxury she will allow herself when she is certain that Haruka is safe.

"Michi!" The cry is accompanied by erratic footsteps close by and Michiru throws herself forwards, all knowledge of pain and exhaustion aside, until her outstretched hand finally finds familiar skin. They collapse into each other, limbs entangled, replacing their absent sight with gentle touch. Michiru finds Haruka's face in the darkness, runs her thumbs along her cheeks, kisses her forehead, checking her body over, checking she's okay.

"Are you hurt? Does anything hurt, Haruka?" she asks, letting her fingers run over the familiar skin.

"My legs hurt a bit, like I can't walk properly. Are you okay? You're breathing really weird..."

"I'm fine now that I'm with you again."

Haruka chokes back something that may have been a sob.

"Where are we? Whas' going on? I don't understand, Michi..."

"I don't know. It's okay, though, I'm here. We're together. It'll be okay now." Michiru's lips find Haruka's and she feels the weight of Haruka lean upon her, relaxing into her body as their arms wrap around each other.

"Is this home? It can't be home, I've been stumbling along for what feels like hours and I can't feel anything, there's just…nothing," Haruka says into Michiru's shoulder, her grip tightening in frustration. Michiru murmurs a "shh" and kisses her cheek, wishing desperately for the nightmare to end, for them to wake up together, in their bed, comfortable and safe and present. The answer to their questions is so far out of her grasp that all she can offer is warmth and gentle platitudes.

The helplessness envelopes her almost as wholly as the darkness.

"Don't let go," Haruka whispers, "I don't want you to let go."

"I won't, ever, I promise."

Michiru feels something begin to pull her consciousness from her and, with Haruka safe in her arms, she slips away.

The elevator speeds downwards as Michiru panics within.

She's lost Haruka – despite all she said, she must have, at some point during what she could only presume was sleep, she's let go of her hand. Now, she's trapped, alone in a moving box careering downwards to god only knows where and no matter how hard she yells, Haruka, wherever she could be, isn't responding – and neither is anybody else, for that matter. She pounds her fists against the enclosed walls, all composure melting away as she screams for somebody, anybody, to find her.

As though listening to her pleas, the elevator grinds to a halt and opens sharply. A hallway lays out in front of her, finely decorated with royal blues and reds reminiscent of the lavish hotels she and Haruka would frequent before life and work and children rooted them in one place.

 _The children._

The thought hits Michiru like a landslide, her memories tumbling back to her. A baby crying, the laughter of their daughter, the thoughtful reflections of their son, the warmth of their home, the barking of a dog, the scent of Setsuna's freshly baked cookies – the fragments of a life that she wasn't sure still existed. Her panic is momentary as she realises that wherever she is, wherever Haruka is, there is no way Setsuna would ever allow harm to come to their family.

 _Is this a dream? Or is this a new enemy?_

She doesn't have time to think too hard, however, as she steps out into the hallway and sees Haruka before her. The sigh of relief has barely escaped her before she's being bundled up into a hug, Haruka's nails digging into her back with reassuring vigour.

"I thought you were dead. Oh my god, I thought you were dead," Haruka's voice cracks as she speaks.

"I'm sorry I let go, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Michiru buries herself in Haruka's chest, inhaling the familiar scent of her cologne, "I ended up in an elevator but the electrics must have been messed with, it just kept hurtling downwards. Were you-"

"In an elevator too? Yeah, I came out just over there..." Haruka points to an adjoining entrance, confusion marring her features.

"Haruka. I need you to think for me. What can you remember? About yesterday, or last night? What's the final thing you can remember before we woke up today?"

"I..." she stops and frowns, "I don't know. I remember tucking the children into bed. I remember our kids and you and Setsuna and...that's it. I can't. I can't place anything." She runs a hand through her hair, frustrated.

"Me neither," Michiru bites her lip, "I think we should look for somebody. We need to ask what's going on."

"Okay, yeah. Yeah! Oh, but Michiru?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Would you maybe...hold my hand? I don't want us to get separated and uh...last time it kinda happened suddenly and I don't know what I would do if it happened again so..." Haruka, despite years of marriage, still blushes at the romantic naivety of her own request, her eyes downcast.

Michiru doesn't have the heart to point out that no amount of holding onto each other had stopped them from being pulled apart last time.

So instead, she wraps their hands together tightly, balancing on tiptoes to kiss Haruka on the nose before pulling her down the hallway and further into the unknown.

–

"Welcome. Please, come on in. We've been waiting for you."

The voice is coming from a man stood behind what appears to be a bar. Michiru frowns. Their surroundings are certainly exquisite, richly painted in the dim light. An aquarium filled with a variety of species sits in the corner and a series of leather seats are positioned along one wall, a coffee table with neatly stacked magazines forming a centrepiece of the small sitting area. The settings are beautifully designed, and yet, everything is cold and empty, as though it hasn't been touched by life in years. Michiru is instantly reminded of her childhood home and she smiles wryly. No amount of lavish decoration can purify a poison – or a building, apparently.

Haruka's hand tightens on hers as she studies the man in front of them. He is white-haired, his expression vacant, apparently human yet utterly without compassion. When he speaks, he does so mechanically, ignoring the blatant fear on Haruka's face. Anger sparks within Michiru but she swallows it swiftly. She has, after all, lived within an emotional vacuum before, and is more than used to the ways of the picture-perfect emotionless.

"Please, sit down. Allow me to introduce myself. I am your bartender-"

"I don't care who or what you are!" Haruka barks, only barely managing to conceal the shaking of her hands behind the sharpness of her tone, "What the hell is this place?!"

"Please, sit down. If you would be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to ask you a question."

"Not until you've answered ours!" Haruka hits back. The bartender does not so much as blink. Michiru pulls Haruka to one side, whispering softly into her ear.

"Darling. I don't think shouting is going to work this time. It's okay. Leave everything to me."

"Please, sit down. If you would be so kind as to indulge me, I would like to ask you a question." The bartender repeats and Michiru feels Haruka bristle as her frustration and fear transfuse into the most intense kind of anger. Michiru squeezes her hand gently, silently urging her to step back on this one.

Michiru could handle this, and Michiru would handle this. She had grown up surrounded by the subtleties of the evil and the chilling. This so-called bartender (and Michiru did not think him to be much of a bartender, considering he hadn't offered either of them a beverage yet, not even to comment on his manners) would be nothing, surely.

"Please, sit down. If you-"

The bartender begins his spiel yet again but Michiru cuts him off smoothly with a wave of her hand.

"Of course," she breezes, delicately balancing herself upon a stool. Haruka grunts and, not wanting to let go of Michiru's hand under any circumstances, follows suit.

"Do you remember anything from just before you came here?"

Michiru stops, a million questions flooding her mind.

 _How could he know about the memory loss? Is this his doing? Have they taken our memories from us? Are the other senshi here? What about the children? Where are our transformation wands? Is Setsuna safe?_

"Do you remember anything from just before you came here?" The bartender repeats.

"No, no, we do not, as it happens. Do you know why that may be, by any chance?" Michiru attempts, slipping her best smile into the offer. Her query is ignored.

"I am now about to explain to you what your circumstances are."

"About fucking time," Haruka mutters under her breath.

"One: I cannot answer the question of where you are. Two: we will now have you play a game."

"Is this a joke? A game? Are you fucking kidding me?" Haruka splutters.

"'Ruka, let him speak," Michiru soothes calmly.

The bartender looks Michiru over, frowning and for a second she sees a glimmer of humanity behind his eyes - something resembling pity. It is gone in an instant, however and the next instruction out of his mouth makes Michiru's blood run cold.

"Three. We will have you stake your lives on this game."


End file.
